An Overload of Success

One morning my heart stopped and at age 37 I died. Here is the story of my demise, my physical recovery and my spiritual rebirth.

Something was terribly wrong but I wouldn't admit it. I couldn't awake. My mind struggled to shape the predawn darkness and accept the significance of the events which were unfolding in my bedroom. The pounding of my heart drowned out the voice of my wife Lori. My pulse was racing and my mind was awhirl with anxiety-ridden thoughts. Perhaps the overbearing stresses of work were presenting just another disconcerting series of nightmares.

Lori's muffled voice became clearer as I realized she was repeating our address to the 911 operator in a steady yet distraught voice.

I came to. "It's just a bad dream; I'm okay," I convinced her and myself. "I have a big trial in a few days and an important meeting at my law office tomorrow. I'm okay. Please hang up the phone."

With an agonizingly desperate look, she helplessly hung up the telephone. By force of will, I convinced my wife that I was fine. I was wrong.

Two hours later I was in full-blown ventricular tachycardia. My heart was firing and quivering uncontrollably, and not enough blood was getting to my brain to keep me conscious. I remember feeling as if I was in a long dark tunnel, and an unknown oppressor was stepping on my oxygen line. I was fighting for every tiny breath.

I was fighting for every tiny breath.

I had fallen off my bed in an uncontrollable spasm, arms and legs flailing. Time stood still. I was trapped in a netherworld of uncertainty, but curiously I was not in pain. I felt Lori's arms around me and heard her calm, soothing, and reassuring voice that led me slowly down the tunnel to light.

I barely perceived my children silhouetted against the doorway, still in their pajamas. I was worried for them. I wanted to go over to them and tell them that "everything was okay," as I had told my wife earlier that morning. But I was frozen in a seizure and could not move. I worried for them as they watched me struggling to breathe, their secure world shattered with this confusing scene.

"What's wrong with Daddy?"

Lori directed Matt to run across the snowy cul-de-sac to summon a neighbor who is a doctor. He ran with purpose, in his bare feet, in his pajamas, in the snow. Within minutes two neighbors were in my bedroom lending encouragement and prayers as the ambulance arrived. Lori rocked me as I silently slumped in her arms.

A CHARMED LIFE

I had a glorious childhood growing up in the 60's and 70's in a modest home in Flushing, New York. My dad, the youngest of seven children, grew up in a poor Sephardic family on the Lower East Side of New York, and he was determined that his children would have better lives. He spent 35 years of his waking hours in a factory where, with my grandfather, he ran a successful business manufacturing curtains and bedspreads.

He was the first one in his family to buy a home. He put me through college and law school, my brother through college and medical school, and my sister through college and graduate school with his decades of toil and sweat.

I learned the value of respect, hard work and pride from my dad. I learned that I could succeed at anything I tried from my mom. My father is my source of grounding and work ethic; my mother is my source of self and inspiration.

As the youngest of three children, I benefited from the adoration and love of both my older siblings. I have always been extremely close with my brother, sister and brother-in-law. Their love and support had infused me with confidence, even brashness. My ambition was to excel at everything and have everyone like me along the way.

Blessed with ambition, drive and a triple-A personality, I excelled at an early age. I was the Athlete Scholar of my high school class, the Georgetown Law grad who made law review, the youngest corporate officer in the 75-year-old history of a Fortune 200 company. I had nothing but blue skies ahead and worlds to conquer.

But my relentless drive and desire to please everyone nearly proved to be my undoing.

MEDICAL CRISIS

The paramedics fitted me with an oxygen mask, strapped me into a stretcher, carted me down the stairs of my home that November day, and rushed me by ambulance to the hospital.

I still harbored thoughts of returning to work that afternoon.

In retrospect, the absurdity of my intention to return to work in the midst of a medical crisis was proof-positive of my distorted sense of priorities.

My dad and sister had flown in from New York to join my wife and friends at the hospital. My condition had not been stabilized despite the intravenous infusions of lidocaine and amioderone, a powerful heart relaxant.

My dad sat across from me in the intensive cardiac care unit as a drum roll reached a crescendo inside my chest. I felt strange, prescient of an impending event. We were alone. The wheeze of the oxygen tanks and the electronic hum of the heart monitor were the only sounds. "Dad," I said through my oxygen mask, "if anything happens to me, please see to it that the kids are okay."

I sat up to reassure my dad and in mid-sentence a lightning bolt hit me square between the eyes. I was flat-lined.

The gravity of those spontaneous words surprised me. This was my first expression of doubt; ironically my first connection with my true feelings and almost tragically my first connection with my soul. My dad, without hesitation, replied, "Don't be silly, you will be okay." We both began to cry.

I sat up to reassure him, and in mid-sentence a lightning bolt hit me square between the eyes. Blinding, dazzling whiteness and warm silence engulfed me. The next several minutes I was flat-lined. No pulse, no sounds, no sights. Just an enveloping, intensive, pervasive holy calm.

I awoke to a masked gaggle of doctors and nurses. To my right, holding my hand, was a gentle elderly woman. I looked at her and my first words were, "Hello, who are you?" She said she was the chaplain and was summoned to stand vigil. I smiled, thanked her and told her that I would not be needing her services, and besides that, I was Jewish.

That night I cried again, terrified of dying in my sleep. What would become of me? What would become of my family? Who did I let down?

God bless the nurse, whose name I have forgotten, but whose shadowed face I will eternally preserve in memory. She clasped my hand and stroked my face and sat with me that first long night, telling me that I would survive.

OVERLOAD

Over the next several days an angiogram confirmed that I had suffered no heart damage, but a severe episode of ventricular fibrillation caused my heart to shut down. I also suffered a partially collapsed lung and phlebitis and post-traumatic stress.

We are all electrical beings, and my electrical components went haywire -- 80 out of a 100 people who have this condition die on the spot. Well, I had always been in the top 20% of everything, so something must be said for consistency.

I had literally overloaded with the stress and the self-imposed pressures of "success."

My electro-physiology cardiologist, Dr. Robert Gold, opened up my chest and implanted a defibrillator. This device is the size of your fist and contains an electrical charge which, if needed, will restore the heart to its rhythm.

I had literally overloaded with the stress and the self-imposed pressures of "success."

During those first two long weeks of hospital convalescence, Lori did not leave my side. Over countless hours of joy and tears and emotional roller coasters, we fell in love all over again -- without the burdens of material objects, without the clutter of career decisions, without the interference of trivialities.

In the aftermath of a near tragedy came a stripping away of years of accumulated insensitivity to each other. We looked at who we were and not who we pretended to be; we whispered renewals of our dreams of simple peace, of a slow and calm lot.

She slept in my hospital bed crammed alongside the hoses and handles on many a night. No matter, we had each other. I was amazed at her strength and poise during this trying time.

The outside world and my business colleagues did not appreciate the gravity of the situation and everyone was calling my home incessantly with important business messages, trial dates and requests for conferences. She managed all sternly and professionally, taking charge in her quiet way. I had never seen this side of Lori before. Perhaps in my need to "control," I had never given her a chance to show her strength.

SIMPLE THINGS

The children became our sustenance -- their development, their school progress, their lives. Simple things became important again. Life, oh precious life.

When a family faces a crisis, all are affected in different, subtle ways. While in the hospital I had received get-well letters from my daughter Jessie, then 8. She is an exceptionally gifted treasure.

My dear son Matt, then 11, however, did not send any letters. He is more of a sensitive, introspective soul. When I came home, Jessie had lots of questions and I answered all of them.

Matt waited until I was alone one evening. He sat on the edge of my bed. I sensed his apprehension. I asked him if he had any questions about what happened to me. He said he did, but asked none. I suggested that he might like to write them down. For the next fifteen minutes, Matt wrote. Then he asked me to write my responses. Verbal communication was still too painful for my tender son to bear.

The phrasing of a very serious, almost unthinkable question buffered by a near-comical one, gives insight into the incongruent pain and positive innocence of a child:

QUESTION: Dad, are you going to die?
ANSWER: I was very sick for a short time. I am not going to die. You and Jessie helped our family very much. I will have to slow down. This won't stop me from watching you play ball!

Followed by...

QUESTION: Dad, how was the hospital food?
ANSWER: Put it this way, my heart's in better shape than my stomach!

After I answered his questions, he curled up under my blanket and slept a deep slumber, not to awaken well into noon the following day.

LIFE'S SECRET

Life reveals its secrets in mysterious ways. Many would superficially look at me before my illness and say that I was a huge success -- I had money, a family, a big home in Potomac, lots of material possessions, and a powerful job. What they would not have seen was the rushing, the late nights, the trips, the distancing of one's self from one's soul, the living for tomorrow's paycheck.

Many of us share this scenario, even if we know better. We stretch ourselves and stretch ourselves. Finally, something has to give, or it will break. What is the aftermath? Divorce, alcoholism, a nervous breakdown, or as in my case, a heart attack.

Everything has a price. What toll does overloaded schedules, harried commutes, hurried meals take on the spirit?

We can't walk, because everyone is running.

Technology has helped numb our senses to feelings. We can't walk, because everyone is running; we can't smell the roses, because they're plastic. We have become disassociated, disconnected from simple pleasures.

I have learned that success is not measured in acquisition of material things. Success is a state of being. It is hugs and kisses, giving to others, smiles and tears. It is appreciating the beauty of a sunset, the chill of an autumn morning, the whimper of a newborn baby.

It is drinking the poetic fruit of Frost, the wit of Twain, the artistry of Cezanne. It is in the slink of a majestic cheetah's walk, and the growl of a polar bear.

It is all around us if we would only slow down and look at the beauty of creation. If we can appreciate the wonders of God and the strength of prayer. If we would only look deeper into our inherited Jewish values, we would not have to learn this lesson the hard way, as I did.

I have learned to celebrate the miracle of reclaimed life one glorious day at a time.

Featured at Aish.com:

Visitor Comments: 28

(28)
Gracie,
November 19, 2006 6:53 AM

MY HEART STOPPED TOO ...

I read your article a couple of months ago and was amazed at how like my own experience it is. I saved it in my favourites and have just re-read it. However, in my case I came out of the experience wanting to simplify my life but I didn't have the understanding and support of my family. I regard my experience as a gift of time, given to me to enjoy, to learn, to cherish all of nature and its beauty. To my family though, I simply changed personality and was no longer the person or the workhorse they knew. And yet I am more myself than I ever was before. When we change and no longer meet the expectations others may have of us that's another lesson about love, I suppose.

(27)
Anonymous,
June 23, 2006 12:00 AM

Powerful words to learn and live by.

Required reading for every hard working person. The lessons learned sort of reminds me of the old show the "Paper Chase", but renamed, the "Life Chase".

(26)
Beverly Kurtin, Ph.D.,
June 22, 2006 12:00 AM

Memories

There I was, in the hospital,recovering from my first MI when the phone rang. It was my office wanting to know if I could come in for an hour or two to finish a project I'd been working on! I asked the nurse to disconnect my phone. A rep from the office brought the work to my hospital room! Some people never get the message that there are more important things than work. I resigned from the company the next day via messenger.

A week later, after I'd returned home, the CEO of the company wanted to know when I was coming back to work. It took an attorney to get them off my back.

(25)
nick,
June 19, 2006 12:00 AM

Nice reminder

Thanks for the reminder about what is really important! It so easy to get caught up in the chase for whats not real!

(24)
Francis e. Jeffery,
June 19, 2006 12:00 AM

Necessity of self examination.

Excellent examination on how type A's kids themselves. A text that should a must read by every clergy and teacher.

(23)
Russell,
June 18, 2006 12:00 AM

You certainly have a finger on the pulse. What a memorable summary of a life before and after.... thanks from those of us wanting to smell the roses
while we're able.

(22)
karl rose,
June 18, 2006 12:00 AM

been there

Will, we have to give you a new name since you came back from the dead, hows about just Bill. Just kidding! You know what I'm talking about, you will never be the old Will you once were, remmants here and there, cause now you know better, just like I do. The type of life altering experience that you have gone through, means you become one of G-d's teachers to others, both Jews and non-Jews. May you have a long, long, long and fruitful life! All the Best...Karl Rose

(21)
Matthew Askinazi,
February 9, 2005 12:00 AM

dad

much love

(20)
Raphael Coiman,
August 13, 2002 12:00 AM

awesome re-discovery

I work in a hospital setting and see everyday patients as well as doctors victim of their own rushed life style. I almost lose what I cared the most, being in such rush, nonsense rush. I'm learning too the slow down. This story is a great lesson for most of us

(19)
dov ben essine,
August 3, 2002 12:00 AM

2 weeks later

Waking up in the intensive care unit.I had driven myself to the hospital,as i did not feel well.After an angiogram it was determined that i needed bypass surgery .I was ready to go home that evening,At the last moment my docter gave an order to the nurse that he wanted me to stay.If it was not for this I would not be here.The following 2 weeks are a blank.I to had my Lori in the name of Maria,and many more good souls.I feel that there prayers,Maria never leaving my side kept me among the living. Also Hashem rewarded me.ANYWAY A VERY TOUCHING AND INSIGHTFULL STORY
Dov

(18)
Anonymous,
July 30, 2002 12:00 AM

What it's all about.

Well-written article about a man who finally came to understand (in a horrible way) what's important in life.

(17)
Shira Levin,
July 28, 2002 12:00 AM

A valuable lesson learned the hard way.

Unfortunately, we tend to be driven
creatures. We are driven to achieve the
American dream. It is then too easy to
set aside what is truly important which
is relationships. First, G-d then family tend to be of less importance.

(16)
Anonymous,
July 26, 2002 12:00 AM

Wow

William, you took me back to my time the ICU, about 4 years ago, after brain surgery...arriving home 2 weeks later to marvel at how much more my almost-three-year-old had developed....just wanting to get better so I, too, could enjoy Hashem's world. But, I lost that desire. Now I want it back. And I can't wait to pick my daughter up at camp and give her a hug!

(15)
Karen,
July 26, 2002 12:00 AM

A lesson we all need to learn

I'm always glad to hear when others have learned that life is too precious to pass by, that G-d has more for them than endless stress and meaningless activity.
I was a young fifteen when I was brought to this point. May others learn now before it is too late.

(14)
Ellen Felber,
July 25, 2002 12:00 AM

To my brother.......I love you!

Let us celebrate the gift of life by remebering to stop and smell a flower, watch the sun rise, notice the smiles of children, say a kind word to a friend...you always do.
I celebrate your life...I thank G-d.
You are "special" ........I love you, my dear brother.

(13)
Roslyn Olsen,
July 25, 2002 12:00 AM

inspiring and thought provoking

The infinite Love of G-D who allows pain to come into our lives to awaken to our true needs. In this way our souls are awakened to a whole, new, and true experience of Life. I loved the story and will send it to others. Thank you,
Roslyn Olsen

(12)
Leah Almaliach,
July 24, 2002 12:00 AM

I am very gratful for your physical and spirtiual recovery. May Hashem bless you to continue to appreciate life and the joy of your remarkable family.

(11)
Deborah C,
July 24, 2002 12:00 AM

Yes, it's a warm fuzzy story...but did he miss it?

Our Almighty gave this gentleman a glimpse into 'not being there'....yet he just relives where he was. Does he plan to open his spirit to the Holy One or just be glad he's not dead? May we all learn from his experience and look to a renewed relationship w/ G-d.

(10)
Chilala Moco,
July 24, 2002 12:00 AM

I think I've always been kind of lazy when it cames to reading long textes. It is interesting and, frightening at the same time. After this one, I really feel as if g-d has been advicing me, for quite a long time, to look around. That's someone experience not to be forgotten. Thanx, Will.

(9)
Ray Saperstein,
July 22, 2002 12:00 AM

So what else is new?

This is such an old story that it is sad that people have to go thru it again and again. If the author had not had a heart attack, he would probably still be rushing everywhere and living his life as before. There is truly nothing new under the sun. Just remember that in Judaism, the one who dies with the most toys is not necessarily a winner.

(8)
,
July 22, 2002 12:00 AM

Great Article

Reminds you what's truely important in life!

(7)
devorah streicher,
July 21, 2002 12:00 AM

what a valuable lesson

Thank you for your message. Let us use every oppurtunity we have to include G-d in our daily living, and now wake up by a tragedy, or G-d forbid, when it's too late. Thanks for sharing.

(6)
Anonymous,
July 21, 2002 12:00 AM

It is so true! My brother had a heart attack in April at age 36!

I thank you SO MUCH for running this story! It is all so true! My own brother had a heart attack in April at age 36, one day before his 37th birthday. Although not a lawyer, he works hard and had alot of stresses at the time. In the end, we all realized Hashem and our relationship to Him is what counts!
Thank you!

(5)
,
July 21, 2002 12:00 AM

This is so beautiful. It made me cry. Thank you for sharing it with us. For being so open about what happened. For being so open to live life, to feel your feelings, to see the people around you...and to acknowledge your heart as the mainstay of your life, not your pocketbook. So insightful! I wish you further success of the true kind.All the best-

(4)
Beverly Kurtin,
July 21, 2002 12:00 AM

Been there, done that.

Strange, isn't it, that sometimes we have to teeter on the brink of death to realize the true values of life. However, I was struck by William's comment, "an enveloping, intensive, pervasive holy calm" which he used to describe his death.

I died during an angioplasty attempt, it was like a light switch being turned off. However, a few days later, after emergency open-heart surgery revived me, I began to die. It was, indeed, an enveloping, intensive, pervasive holy calm. It was, in fact, very welcome as I was released from the pain of having my chest sawed open.

Thankfully, the code blue team rescued me in time. But I am no longer afraid of death or dying. I don't know what may happen after death, but it's not important. We're in HaShem's hands. And the life we have is so beautiful.

(3)
Phelippe Salazar,
July 21, 2002 12:00 AM

Forces instrospect

I had a similiar experience in my life, though I did not flat line. I know what he means and once more reminded me how this experience taught me to separate the substance from the shadow of life. Tada rabba!!

(2)
Suzanne Staschiak,
July 21, 2002 12:00 AM

"An Overload of Success" was enlightening.

i was really moved by this particular "article." i sat at my computer and cried for a while. my dad had had a heart attack, but he still does not slow down. i thank you for publishing this article, i will show him. perhaps he will stop and smell the roses. wonderful article!

(1)
Anonymous,
July 21, 2002 12:00 AM

thanks you for your insights

A wonderful wonderful sharing of a life changing experience. It should be posted on the office wall of every lawyer. And should be carried in the wallet of every Jewish lawyer. thanks you/ jeff

I live in rural Montana where the Cholov Yisrael milk is difficult to obtain and very expensive. So I drink regular milk. What is your view on this?

The Aish Rabbi Replies:

Jewish law requires that there be rabbinic supervision during the milking process to ensure that the milk comes from a kosher animal. In the United States, many people rely on the Department of Agriculture's regulations and controls as sufficiently stringent to fulfill the rabbinic requirement for supervision.

Most of the major Kashrut organizations in the United States rely on this as well. You will therefore find many kosher products in America certified with a 'D' next to the kosher symbol. Such products – unless otherwise specified on the label – are not Cholov Yisrael and are assumed kosher based on the DOA's guarantee.

There are many, however, do not rely on this, and will eat only dairy products that are designated as Cholov Yisrael (literally, "Jewish milk"). This is particularly true in large Jewish communities, where Cholov Yisrael is widely available.

Rabbi Moshe Feinstein wrote that under limited conditions, such as an institution which consumes a lot of milk and Cholov Yisrael is generally unavailable or especially expensive, American milk is acceptable, as the government supervision is adequate to prevent non-kosher ingredients from being added.

It should be added that the above only applies to milk itself, which is marketed as pure cow's milk. All other dairy products, such as cheeses and butter, may contain non-kosher ingredients and always require kosher certification. In addition, Rabbi Feinstein's ruling applies only in the United States, where government regulations are considered reliable. In other parts of the world, including Europe, Cholov Yisrael is a requirement.

There are additional esoteric reasons for being stringent regarding Cholov Yisrael, and because of this it is generally advisable to consume only Cholov Yisroel dairy foods.

In 1889, 800 Jews arrived in Buenos Aires, marking the birth of the modern Jewish community in Argentina. These immigrants were fleeing poverty and pogroms in Russia, and moved to Argentina because of its open door policy of immigration. By 1920, more than 150,000 Jews were living in Argentina. Juan Peron's rise to power in 1946 was an ominous sign, as he was a Nazi sympathizer with fascist leanings. Peron halted Jewish immigration to Argentina, introduced mandatory Catholic religious instruction in public schools, and allowed Argentina to become a haven for fleeing Nazis. (In 1960, Israeli agents abducted Adolf Eichmann from a Buenos Aires suburb.) Today, Argentina has the largest Jewish community in Latin America with 250,000, though terror attacks have prompted many young people to emigrate. In 1992, the Israeli Embassy in Buenos Aires was bombed, killing 32 people. In 1994, the Jewish community headquarters in Buenos Aires was bombed, killing 85 people. The perpetrators have never been apprehended.

Be aware of what situations and behaviors give you pleasure. When you feel excessively sad and cannot change your attitude, make a conscious effort to take some action that might alleviate your sadness.

If you anticipate feeling sad, prepare a list of things that might make you feel better. It could be talking to a specific enthusiastic individual, running, taking a walk in a quiet area, looking at pictures of family, listening to music, or reading inspiring words.

While our attitude is a major factor in sadness, lack of positive external situations and events play an important role in how we feel.

[If a criminal has been executed by hanging] his body may not remain suspended overnight ... because it is an insult to God (Deuteronomy 21:23).

Rashi explains that since man was created in the image of God, anything that disparages man is disparaging God as well.

Chilul Hashem, bringing disgrace to the Divine Name, is one of the greatest sins in the Torah. The opposite of chilul Hashem is kiddush Hashem, sanctifying the Divine Name. While this topic has several dimensions to it, there is a living kiddush Hashem which occurs when a Jew behaves in a manner that merits the respect and admiration of other people, who thereby respect the Torah of Israel.

What is chilul Hashem? One Talmudic author stated, "It is when I buy meat from the butcher and delay paying him" (Yoma 86a). To cause someone to say that a Torah scholar is anything less than scrupulous in meeting his obligations is to cause people to lose respect for the Torah.

Suppose someone offers us a business deal of questionable legality. Is the personal gain worth the possible dishonor that we bring not only upon ourselves, but on our nation? If our personal reputation is ours to handle in whatever way we please, shouldn't we handle the reputation of our nation and the God we represent with maximum care?

Jews have given so much, even their lives, for kiddush Hashem. Can we not forego a few dollars to avoid chilul Hashem?

Today I shall...

be scrupulous in all my transactions and relationships to avoid the possibility of bringing dishonor to my God and people.

With stories and insights,
Rabbi Twerski's new book Twerski on Machzor makes Rosh Hashanah prayers more meaningful. Click here to order...